


Rebuild and Regrow

by NoctuaFoxglove



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Mentions of Sex, Multi, Other, Trans Male Character, Trans Shane
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-06-30 18:35:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15757404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoctuaFoxglove/pseuds/NoctuaFoxglove
Summary: A collection of Stardew Valley ficlets. Some may involve OC farmers or AU content. May vary in seriousness, but all are pretty character-driven. Tags will change as stories are added.





	1. Self-Made Man

**Author's Note:**

> Characters: (Trans) Shane, Vague OC farmer.  
> Content warnings: Semi-explicit sex mention
> 
> Shane reflects on just how far he's come.

In some ways, you're right where you wanted to be. 

You look in the mirror and 'ladylike' is the last term anyone would use to describe you. You've cut and injected yourself so far away from that high school girl with her face shrouded in a curtain of hair. She only exists in Marnie's photo albums now, clutching her hand, surrounded by cows and chickens on the ranch. Sometimes when you squint, you can see how she wanted to disappear from the world, even at such a young age. She got her wish. You gave the feelings a name and turned them into actions, and she gradually faded away, into the man that stares back at you from that mirror. 

You're a hot fucking mess, that's for sure. But at least it's completely, undoubtedly yourself. From your constant shadow of stubble to your beer belly, you've come to own your appearance. Own, but not love. Far from it. It's all been such a small comfort against the constant assault of voices in your head. They constantly remind you of what you'll never change, that the job will never truly be done. Unfinished. Unlovable. A good half a foot shorter than every other man. Sometimes your voice still cracks, and suddenly you're no longer a man, but a little boy in everyone's eyes. 

But somewhere, deep down, you still know it's not true, even if those demons can be so deafening at times. 

You know because out of nowhere someone moved to town and, beyond all odds, decided to give a fuck-up like you a chance. It still blows your mind. He's huge, his body firm and toned and so much larger than yours. He laughs and speaks like thunder. When he comes around after working you can feel the testosterone coming off of him, and deep down you just want to bottle some of it and take it for yourself so maybe you'll feel a hair less inadequate next to him. Less soft, less vulnerable. 

He has absolutely no reason to treat you how he does. 

But there's respect in the way he touches you. Those rough fingers brush your chest scars with a gentle sort of reverence. When your voice moves a pitch higher than you're comfortable with, he pretends not to notice. He appreciates your body, the way it gives under his hands and how nicely it fits against his, but he doesn't treat you as something delicate. Even when he's arched over you, growling and buried deep in a hole you never thought you'd use again, it still feels... right. Like he expects nothing of you except being just who you are, and that he will treat you to match.

One thing that has always stuck with you is something he whispered to you, laying there in the afterglow, your head resting on his chest and feeling it rise and fall underneath you. It rumbled through his chest and shook something inside you. 

He said, we're both what we made ourselves. I may be bigger than you, but you worked so hard for what you have. Against an unforgiving society and your own internal pressures, you still carved out who you wanted to be. Who you really were. And that makes you more of a man than I'll probably ever be. 

You're still not sure if you believe that last part. But ever since, it's been a glowing ember in your chest, a light that helps to, even for just a few moments, chase away the shadows that threaten to consume you. 

You're self-made, you tell yourself. But what you've built, even if incomplete, still gives you some pride.


	2. Wisdom of Chickens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane has a conversation with Charlie about his life.

"Ugh. Life, am I right? Wake up, go to shitty job, come home, shove pizza and beer into face, continue being a burden on Aunt Marnie. Over and over. Every fucking day. You wouldn't happen to know a way out, would you?"

"Bok." 

"Nah, didn't think so. God, I love you guys. Love everything about you. You guys give us free food every day. Maybe a lot of people don't appreciate that, but I sure as hell do. And you don't ask for a thing in return other than some corn every now and then and a place to sleep." 

"Bok?" 

"Yeah. And in the summer? You guys are like tick vacuums. Makes life easier for the other animals. And us, for that matter." 

"Bok bok..."

"Yeah, that's right, c'mere. There you go. Good girl. I'm really jealous of you, y'know? When you get fat, it's cute. When I get fat, I just get more and more unlovable. Not that I ever had a chance in the first place, but you've got each other. I pretty much just have you guys."

"Bok?"

"Yeah... you're right. I shouldn't spit on Aunt Marnie like that. She didn't have to give me a chance. And Jas... well, I don't know how she feels about me. Probably doesn't care for me very much. But I really should be thankful. They haven't thrown me out on my ass. Not yet, anyway."

"Bok bok bok bok..." 

"The farmer? Man, I can't tell you why they keep paying attention to me. Every night it seems these days they're in there, payin' off my beer, getting me pizzas and those nice peppers I like. And after I've been such a dick to them. They just keep comin'."

"Bok!"

"What? N-nah... they can't be into a guy like me. Can't be. I'm a piece of shit. I treated them like garbage. They... They'd deserve someone better than me..."

"Bok bok!"

"You think so?"

"Bok." 

"...Y'know what? Maybe you have a point... Startin' tomorrow, I'm gonna try to be nicer. Maybe... maybe it'll go somewhere. Can't hurt to try, right?"

"Bok."

"Wish me luck, sweetheart."

"Bok."


End file.
